A Brilliant Gamble
by Karen Weasley
Summary: Holly Bagman is the daughter of the notorious gambler Ludo Bagman. The association with her father's name has damaged her odds her whole life, but will a chance meeting with Harry Potter prove to be the best gamble of them all, or will both she and Harry come out as losers in this game? Read on to find out!
1. Chapter 1

_**Holly**_

"Mum! Mum where are you?"

"I'm in the kitchen, dear!"

Holly Bagman hurried down the stairs from her room to the kitchen. "Mum I wanted to ask you something," she smiled as she entered the kitchen.

Her mother was standing over the sink listening to the Wireless while she cleaned the dinner dishes from earlier that night. "What is it dear?" she asked, turning to face her daughter.

"Mum…I'm sure you know what's happening this summer," Holly began.

"Darling, I do try to keep up with things happening in your life, but I don't know everything," her mother teased. "You'll have to be a bit more specific."

"Alright," Holly smiled. "Well…the Quidditch Finals are coming up in a few weeks, and for the first time in a very long time, England is hosting the final game! Ireland vs. Bulgaria in England, can you believe it?!"

"Dear I know how much you love quidditch, but you should know by now that I cannot stand the sport!" her mother replied with a sigh. "Your father ruined it for me."

Holly rolled her eyes and made a face when her mother's back was turned. Her father was the notorious Ludo Bagman: ex-beater for the Winborne Wasps and head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports in the Ministry. Her mother had never quite forgiven him for the reasons behind their divorce even though it had been over seven years ago.

"I know you don't like the sport, Mum, but…it's so close!" Holly pleaded. "The finals will never be this close again in my lifetime, and I really, really, _really_ want to see a professional game! Besides, Ireland's in the finals. Please Mum!"

"Holly, we'll never get tickets this late, and I refuse to go to any event that your father has planned. No doubt everything will go wrong, and besides, everyone there will be drunk, and I will not place you in that environment," her mother replied firmly.

Holly huffed angrily and sat down in one of the kitchen chairs with her arms folded. "Dad would've taken me," she muttered.

"Ha! Your father would have taken you and then left you somewhere while he bragged about his old quidditch career, got drunk, lost all his money, then went home without you," her mother replied sourly. "You know he never pays attention to you when there's anything to do with quidditch around."

"At least I would've seen the game!" Holly argued. "Mum, if I write to Dad and he'll take me, can I go?"

"Holly!" her mother cried, spinning on the spot to face her.

"Mother!" Holly whined in reply. "I want to see the game, please!"

Her mother sighed and turned back to the stove for a moment. "You really want this badly enough to stay with your father? I know how much you don't like spending extended periods with him."

Holly bit her lip. It was true; staying with her father for long periods of time was strenuous to say the least. He hardly ever paid more attention to her than a brief conversation, and he wasn't even that great at conversation: most of the time he bragged about his long-dead quidditch career or about the latest event he had organized at the Ministry. The idea of being with him at one of his own events was enough to make Holly regret bringing the subject up, but Ireland vs. Bulgaria…

"As long as it's just for the match…" Holly said slowly. "I really want to see the game, and goodness knows if it'll ever come back to England. Can we please ask him, Mum?"

Her mother sighed again and stared at her daughter for a moment. She could see how important this was to her, but the idea of putting her only child in the care of that man for an event like this was one she wasn't so fond of. "I'll have to talk to him, Holly. He has to understand what it means to be responsible for you at this kind of event. If I'm convinced he can handle it, you can go."

Holly forced a smile and slid off the chair. "I'm going back to my room for a bit, then, Mum," she said and left the kitchen. She hurried up the stairs before shutting the door to her room and leaning her forehead against the cool wood. "That was as good as a 'no'," she finally muttered to herself. "Mum'll never be convinced he can take care of me…I'll never get to go to that match."

She pushed off from the door and walked over to her bed before sitting down heavily with a sigh. As she sat there in despair, she felt a soft fluttering by her left shoulder. She looked up to see her barn owl, Timber, settling herself on her shoulder. Timber gently nuzzled Holly's neck as she always did when she sensed her mistress was upset.

"Hi Timber," Holly smiled ruefully. "It looks like we'll be here all summer again," she sighed.

Timber hooted softly in response and continued to rub against Holly's cheek.

Holly gently stroked Timber's feathers and stared out her window into the sunset. The sunsets in Ireland were absolutely gorgeous to behold, and Holly always took special care to observe them whenever possible. Tonight, the sky was especially beautiful with deep oranges and purples blending seamlessly into the black shadows of the hills. Holly leaned over to grab a fresh canvas and her favorite set of paints. Timber fluttered off her shoulder already aware of the amount of concentration the activity required. Holly slid from her bed to the window seat that faced the west. She propped the canvas against her knees and quickly set about capturing the sunset in all its glory.

Painting had become a steady hobby of hers since she and her mother had moved to Ireland when she was ten years old. Her mother's job as a magical biologist had taken them from England to the country of Ireland, and Holly, though disappointed that she would not be attending Hogwarts, was thrilled with the idea of living in the beautiful and magical countryside of Ireland. Ever since her first few weeks there, Holly had desired to capture some of the indescribable images she had seen; painting had been her solution.

Her room was now littered with half-finished canvases leaning against complete images of old castles that were sitting on top of silhouettes of her school which were piled beside sunsets from two years ago. While her mother called it a mess and swore there was no way to know what was where, Holly called it ambiance and knew exactly where each and every one of her paintings resided in her room.

As she carefully traced the horizon line with her black paint, she heard the sounds of her mother screaming echoing through the old house, and she sighed. Timber fluttered her wings in surprise, but then simply rolled her eyes and returned to trying to sleep. By the sounds of it, her mother had Floo-called her father and was currently "discussing" the terms under which Holly might stay with him for the match. It wasn't as though Holly had been hoping for a positive outcome, but she certainly hadn't been excepting the shouting to start this soon into the conversation. "Unless Dad's already drunk," she muttered to herself before chuckling at her own joke and continuing to paint the sunset.

Some would think that judging by Holly's reactions to her father that she didn't love him, but they would be mistaken. Holly did love her father very much; she spent many free hours fondly remembering happy times from her childhood before the divorce had torn everything apart. She had been too young at the time to understand what was happening or why, but even now she knew that her mother had not told her everything about the reasons behind the separation. All she knew was that her mother believed her father to be irresponsible and unable to take care of a family. Holly did miss her father, but she missed the one she had known as a young girl.

Ludo Bagman now was nothing like that man. When Holly was with him, he hardly paid her any mind at all and spent most of his time reminiscing about his glory days. She had no idea what had happened to cause the change in her beloved father, but she desperately wanted the old him back. She missed the man that would take her into the yard and fly with her for hours until her mother finally called them in for dinner. She missed the man that she used to listen to Quidditch matches on the Wireless with while he explained to her all the rules and tricks. But most of all she missed the man that would listen when she spoke and cared what she said.

As Holly concluded her session of reminiscing, the sun disappeared completely behind the hills, leaving only a pale stripe of orange left in its place. Holly carefully added the final highlights and shades to her painting before closing up her paint jars and placing her brushes in a jar of water. She placed the painting on the window seat and stood up to stretch her legs.

The sounds of arguing continued to echo up the stairs, and Holly turned her eyes, once again, to the outside world. The sky was clear, and the air was cool; it was the perfect night for a flight…if she could get away with it. She bit her lip and listened closely to the noise downstairs; it didn't sound as though they would be finishing any time soon, which meant she could easily get out her window on her broom and make a quick flight before her mother ever realized she had been gone.

Holly hurried over to her chest of drawers and pulled out her Irish-knit wool sweater that was perfect for that night before pulling her broom from its hiding place under her bed and crossing back to the window. "Timber…remember the signal if you hear Mum," she said over her shoulder to the owl that hooted in response. With a nod, Holly leapt onto her broom and shot out of the open window like a bullet from a muggle gun.

As she had predicted, the night was perfect. The clouds had receded to allow the stars to bathe the land in their silvery light while the wind was just enough to keep her cool without freezing her to the bone. Holly sighed and felt all her muscles relax as she felt the breeze flow through her blonde hair while she flew across the vast expanse of ground near her house. While they did not own all of it by any means, Holly knew no one (wizard or muggle) would ever come up to where they lived at this time of night, so she felt safe using it all for her flying purposes.

She shot between the trees and took herself so low to the ground that her shoes actually scraped the grass before darting through the top-most leaves and heading straight for the stars. Flying was the only thing aside from painting that she had to relieve the stress of day-to-day life while distracting her from her mother's temper.

Holly had barely completed her third lap of the house when she heard the hooting of Timber that meant her mother was on her way upstairs. Holly turned her broom for her bedroom window and urged the broom to go as fast as possible. If her mother were to catch her…well, she didn't like to think about it. She shot back through the window and landed gently beside her bed. Quickly and quietly, she replaced her broom in its hiding place under the bed before pulling off her sweater and throwing it back in its drawer with just enough time to flop down on the bed before her mother knocked on the door.

"Come in, Mum," Holly called, trying to keep her breathing even.

Her mother opened the door and sighed. "Are you ever going to clean up these paintings?" she asked exasperatedly.

"Probably not," Holly replied with a grin. "Where else would I put them?"

Her mother sighed again before changing the subject. "Your father and I talked."

Holly morphed her face into an expression that appeared shocked by the news as though she hadn't heard them fighting all night. "Really…and, uh, what did you decide?" Holly asked apprehensively.

With yet another sigh, her mother locked eyes with her. "In a rare bout of consideration, your father agreed to my terms. He wants you to stay with him so he can take you to the match. You are allowed to go."

Holly's face lit up with a genuine smile. "That's awesome! Thanks Mum!"

Her mother smiled indulgently before closing the door; it didn't escape Holly's notice that she was muttering to herself the entire was out.

As soon as the door was closed, Holly turned back to Timber with the same real smile in place. "Well, Timber, it looks like we'll be getting out of here after all."

Timber hooted in response yet again before gliding out of the open window. She felt it was safe to go hunt now that all the excitement was over.

Holly watched her owl fly off into the night with a strange sense of glee that had nothing to do with getting to go to the match. For some reason, she felt as though something larger had just begun, and she couldn't wait to find out exactly what that was.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Bagmans and Crouch**_

Harry Potter found himself wishing for fifty more pairs of eyes as he and his best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger walked through the tents of witches and wizards from all over the world who had come to enjoy the Quidditch World Cup. As they moved through the camp towards the water tap, more people seemed to finally be waking up. Some were attempting to light fires the muggle way while others simply prodded the logs with their wands when they were sure no Ministry officials were looking.

"Can you imagine the work it must be taking to keep all of us secret from the muggles?" Hermione asked in wonder as she watched two Ministry officials heading off towards an obviously magical fire that was shooting purple sparks into the air. "I mean, the man we spoke to had already had his memory modified how many times?"

"Well, Dad says the Ministry's been going mental for months over all the security measures," Ron explained. "Apparently they haven't quite covered everything," he added as they passed a tent that resembled a mansion complete with garden and live peacocks.

"Didn't one of the Ministry members mention something about someone running around in Quidditch robes?" Hermione asked.

Ron laughed. "Yeah that's Ludo Bagman. He's the one that got us the tickets, but according to Percy, he's not exactly up to Ministry par."

"He played professional quidditch, then?" Harry asked as they continued to walk through the tents.

"Oh yeah!" Ron replied fervently. "He was the best beater the Winborne Wasps ever had."

"He should still know better than to be talking about quidditch like that around muggles," Hermione said reprovingly. "He's just making it harder on the rest of the Ministry."

Ron shrugged as they joined the line for the water tap.

Half an hour later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione finally arrived back at the Weasley's tent. "What took you lot so long?" Fred grumbled when he saw them.

"Ran into half of Hogwarts on the way to and from the tap," Ron replied, setting down the bucket. "You lot not got that fire started yet?"

"Dad's having fun with the matches," George replied sourly.

Harry looked over to see Mr. Weasley surrounded by a pile of used matches as he continued to try and light one. Hermione finally took pity on him and went over to show him how to do it properly.

As the fire was nowhere near hot enough for cooking yet, the group simply sat around and watched the near constant action surrounding them. Their tent just happened to be near to the path that led to and from the stadium as well as all over the camp, so almost everyone seemed to be passing by. Mr. Weasley kept up a running commentary of names for Harry and Hermione as his own children had grown up hearing all about the Ministry and its members. Finally, Mr. Weasley grinned broadly as he spotted someone coming along the path.

"Ah ha! The man of the hour: Ludo!" he beamed.

The rest of the group looked over to where Mr. Weasley had pointed and saw a man practically bouncing along the path towards them. Harry could now tell what the Ministry member at the entrance had meant. Ludo Bagman was wearing a set of robes in bright yellow with black stripes and a large wasp emblazoned on the chest. The robes were stretched over his large stomach that he clearly had not had during his quidditch days. However, his smile could not have been larger if he had just won the game himself.

"Arthur!" he cried in a jovial voice. "Nice to you see you!"

"Everyone," Mr. Weasley said, "this is Ludo Bagman. He's the reason we got such good tickets."

Bagman waved his hand as though to say it had been nothing. "All of these yours, Arthur?" he asked looking around the large group.

"Oh no only the red heads," Mr. Weasley corrected. "This is Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George, Ron, my daughter Ginny, and those are Ron's friends: Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."

"Merlin's beard!" Bagman cried upon seeing Harry. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter."

"Pleasure to meet you too, sir," Harry replied politely.

"Mind if I join you for a few minutes, Arthur?" Bagman asked. "It's been mental trying to finish all the preparations for the match."

"Not at all," Mr. Weasley replied and gestured for him to sit down.

Bagman flopped down on the ground and beamed around at all of them. "So, anyone fancy a wager on the match?" he asked eagerly jingling the coins in his pocket.

Fred and George grinned at each other before whirling around to face Bagman. "We bet 37 galleons, 15 sickles, and 3 Knuts that Ireland wins but Krum gets the snitch. Oh, and we'll throw in a fake wand that we invented ourselves."

Bagman took the wand and burst out laughing when it turned into a rubber chicken. "Excellent! I'll add 5 galleons for the wand, then." He wrote down the twins' names and their bet before handing the slip of paper back to George.

"You all enjoying yourselves, then?" he asked as he put the notebook away again.

They all nodded and murmured their agreement, and Bagman smiled. "I'm pleased to hear that," he admitted. "That makes the work all the more-"

"FATHER!" a voice suddenly rang over the hill, and the entire Weasley party plus Bagman froze and looked towards the sound.

"Oh blimey," Bagman muttered as his face went slightly pink. "I forgot about her again."

"Forgot about who, Ludo?" Mr. Weasley asked interestedly.

"My daughter, Holly," Bagman replied sheepishly. "She wanted to see the game so her mum let her come to stay with me for a bit…must've lost her after the talk with the Bulgarian Minister. "I hope she's not too upset with me."

Holly had been furious, but not altogether surprised, when she had turned around to find her father gone. He had been talking to the Bulgarian Minister, and Holly had taken the opportunity to observe some of the activity going on around her. The next thing she knew, she was standing alone in the middle of a clearing with no sign of her father in any direction. With a groan she had begun to walk back towards the camp; it was a good thing she had been born with an excellent sense of direction.

She had been staying with her father for over a week mainly because he would have been too busy to have her arrive any closer to the match. As a result, she was already used to being left in various places and had really begun to miss Ireland. Still, she refused to admit that to either her mother or her father for fear of that being used as yet another weapon against each other. Instead, she had simply gone along in silence and kept a countdown until the match on her calendar.

Despite her best attempts to ignore being ignored, Holly was beginning to get more than annoyed with her father as this made the fifth time that day that he had simply walked away from her. She clambered over a hill and glanced around the camp. Unable to see her father anywhere, she decided to throw caution to the winds and make him do some of the work for a change. "FATHER!" she called at the top of her lungs.

It only took a few moments before she heard him. "Over here, darling!"

Holly sighed and hurried down the hill towards the group of people her father's voice had come from. Once she got closer, she could see him sprawled on the grass beside the numerous children and fought to keep her eyes from rolling in exasperation.

"Sorry about that, love," her father said sheepishly as she finally reached the camp. "I just got caught up with the Minister, and I-"

"Please don't try and explain, Dad; you'll only make it worse," Holly sighed. "I'm sorry to interrupt."

"Not at all," Bagman replied, clearly trying to regain the mood of a few moments ago. "This is Arthur Weasley; he works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry." Mr. Weasley stood and shook hands with Holly.

"These are my children," Mr. Weasley continued with the introductions. "That's Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred & George, Ron, and my daughter Ginny."

Holly smiled and nodded at each as they were introduced.

"And these are close friends of Ron," Mr. Weasley added gesturing towards the two people nearest Bagman. "That's Hermione Granger, and that is Harry Potter."

Holly nodded and smiled at Hermione before turning to Harry. As soon as their eyes met, however, Holly froze and found herself unable to nod and smile.

Harry was having a similar problem. When the girl had entered their camp, he had merely paid her a moment's notice before returning his attention to the fire and the food, but he had raised his head for introductions and now found himself locking gazes with her. He couldn't tear his eyes away!

There seemed to be some electricity coursing through the air as the two continued to stare at each other, and neither seemed able to look away. Finally, Holly snapped out of her trance and smiled at him.

"It's nice to meet you…all of you. I'm Holly Bagman."

Harry continued to stare as she turned again to her father, and it took a painful dig in the ribs from Fred to snap him back to reality. "Easy there, Harry," Fred snickered. "You act like you've never seen a woman before."

"Why don't you join us, Holly?" Bagman asked with his broad grin back in place. "You don't mind, do you Arthur?"

"Not at all," Mr. Weasley assured her. "Please join us."

Harry hurriedly slid over to make space between himself and Hermione so that Holly would sit next to him which, to his great delight, she did.

For a few moments, everyone simply sat in an awkward silence before Mr. Weasley finally cleared his throat. "So, Holly, why haven't we seen you around before now?"

"I've lived with my mother since I was seven, and we've lived in Ireland since I was ten, so I haven't really been back to England since," Holly replied politely.

"Ah so that's why I don't remember seeing you at Hogwarts," Fred mused. "That's a relief; I thought I'd actually missed one of the pretty ones," he winked at her.

Holly laughed and rolled her eyes. "Yes that's why I've never been to Hogwarts. I think it's the only thing I prefer about England."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked her curiously.

Holly turned to him and smiled sadly. "Oh, I just wish I could've gone to Hogwarts. I mean, I love my school in Ireland, but Hogwarts is Hogwarts, isn't it?"

"That reminds me," Bagman cut in suddenly. "What year are all of you in?"

"We're in sixth year," Fred replied.

"I'm in third!" Ginny piped up.

"And Hermione, Harry, and I are in fourth," Ron replied. "Why?"

"Well that's perfect then!" Bagman cried excitedly. "As long as Arthur doesn't mind, Holly, you can stay here and get to know some of your new classmates while I go and-"

"Wait, 'new classmates'?" Holly cried leaping to her feet and glaring at her father. "What are you talking about, Father?"

"Oh blimey did I not mention it?" Bagman gulped. "Well, your mother's job wants her to move back to England but not until the winter. We talked and figured it was easier to start you at school here at the beginning of term rather than the middle, so you'll be staying with me this year and going to Hogwarts."

Holly gaped silently at him before sinking down again onto the grass with a shocked expression on her face.

"Well, I think we'd all be glad to have Holly stay with us for a while, Ludo," Mr. Weasley said awkwardly. "So, if there's something you need to go take care of…" he trailed off with a glance at Holly.

"Ah there you are Ludo!" another man's voice called.

"Mr. Crouch!" Percy gasped before making every effort to make himself look more professional and proper.

"Oh hello, Weatherby," Mr. Crouch added as he caught sight of Percy. Fred and George both snorted into their freshly poured tea. "Ludo, the Bulgarian Minister would like more seats added to the top box."

"Oh is that what the man was after," Bagman chuckled. "Couldn't understand him for the life of me: thought he was asking for a pair of tweezers; he's got a bit of a strong accent."

"Yes, well, I suggest we go tend to the matter at once," Crouch said tersely.

"Right I'm coming," Bagman agreed, heaving himself off the grass. "You behave yourself, Holly. I'll see you all at the match! You're all in the top box with me; I'm commentating."

With that, Bagman and Crouch both departed the camp, and silence fell again between the members of the Weasley family. Finally, it was Holly that broke the silence.

"I'm sorry Father dumped me on you; I didn't mean to ruin your trip."

"You haven't ruined it," Fred assured her.

"Yeah, one can never have too many beautiful women around," George added with a wink.

"Well aren't you two quite the charmers," Holly laughed. "But why do I get the feeling you say that to every girl you meet?"

"Uh oh, George…they're on to us!" Fred muttered.

"Guess we have to go to plan B then," George replied.

"We don't want to know!" Ginny cried to stop her brothers from going any further.

Everyone laughed including Holly.

"Well, I think the fire's finally hot enough now," Mr. Weasley declared. "So, let's have some breakfast before they start selling things for the match, shall we?"

Everyone readily agreed and began to talk amongst themselves as they prepared breakfast.

_**So, what do you all think? I really appreciate all the favorites and follows so far; it really blew my mind how many people have already liked this story! I hope I didn't make you wait too long for this chapter. Reviews are always welcome; I really love feedback! Thanks everyone, and I hope to see you all soon with a new chapter!**_


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